I am a specialist but you will not find me in any telephone directory or even on the Internet. I get my work by word of mouth and referrals. Am I expensive? Not always, it depends on the client. I have even once provided my services for free: that was to Amanda, but she has never left again. She assists me now and then, usually as a model to demonstrate my work.

My clients all come of their own free will, I do not force them. Take Darla for instance. Her soon to be husband was the one who arranged it but she came along willingly. I must admit that he paid a great deal for this service but Darla was blissfully unaware of our arrangement. As far as she was concerned she was coming for a little rope bondage session.

I do not consider myself a Rope Master. There are many more skilled in the finer arts than I am, but no one has ever escaped my ropes. There are some in my profession who use manacles and leather. They claim it subdues the client making them easier to handle. It’s a matter of personal taste I suppose.

Darla was quite cheery and jovial. She signed my forms without reading them; not something I would recommend, but that was her choice. So I told her to take off her clothes

“Why?”

“Because I said so, for one,” I answered measuredly.

She laughed. I think it was nerves. To be truthful she had a great deal to be nervous about, but she did as requested. I then tied her elbows behind her. She was quite supple but they did not touch completely. I then stood back and let her discover how helpless she already was. There was no way to release herself. She laughed again.

I then tied her wrists, adding a rope around her waist to hold them still. A look crossed her face. It was only a moment. Most people would have missed it but I was looking for it. The first indication that she was loosing control.

“Hey, your good.”

I accepted the compliment graciously.

“I can see now why Tom wanted me to come. I feel helpless already.”

I smiled to myself. I spun her round to disorientate her. She stumbled unable to balance properly but I did not let her fall.

“Hey! Was that necessary?”

I said nothing but picked up my trusty ball gag. The look on her face told me she had never been gagged before. She did not fight me, but opened up her mouth. I allowed her to savour the feeling.

“Hmph mphs ss mphy ffctv” she giggled. A smile was visible despite the distortion caused by the ball in her mouth.

I pinched a nipple.

She jumped and tried to back away but I held on. Her eyes opened wide and a torrent of something tried to come out. It was completely indecipherable of course. Using the nipple as leverage I guided her to sit down on my bondage chair. I thought I saw a tear in her eye. I ignored all complaints and set about tying her in place. She persisted trying to speak for several minutes before realising that I was not going to take any notice.

When I had finished she could not move. That was important. She could get badly hurt if she moved at the wrong moment. I take good care of my clients. I waited for her to calm down. She looked at me wildly behind the gag. There was a small patch of drool dripping between her breasts. I wiped it away for her. Any thanks she might have thought were quickly dispersed as I wrapped several turns of rope around each breast making her nipples swell. I then opened the cupboard doors.

The chair is bolted to the floor facing the cupboard. The doors are almost invisible to the casual glance but a light comes on when they are opened revealing the contents. The reaction is almost always the same. I suppose you would call it abject terror.

I have been collecting medieval medical and torture instruments for many years. They are only for show. I would not risk damaging them by using them, but they make a fine display. No, I am not being excessively cruel. Adrenaline is the body’s natural defence against stress and pain. I need to get the body saturated so that the next part of the proceedings can take place. This is the easiest way to do it.

“I would like to introduce you to Amanda,” I told my now almost petrified client.

Amanda arrived on cue. She is my loving and willing slave. She is naked save for the various metal accessories that adorn her lovely body. The ornate gold bands on each wrist are seamless, there is no lock. She has matching ankle cuffs and a collar with the words ‘slave’ etched in flourish script. A gold chain runs between these five bands connecting them. Her nipples are pierced with gold barrels. She has three gold ring in each labia. Her movements are graceful if measured. She does not look directly at me but presents herself feet slightly apart, wrists touching in front of her tummy. I think she looks beautiful and my client appears to agree.

“This is how your husband to be wants you to look,” I explained, “yours will be made of steel not gold, but you will still look spectacular.”

There was wonder in her eyes. She was still trying to complain but the gag is very effective.

“This will hurt,” I told her, “I’m sorry, but once fitted they are not uncomfortable are they Amanda?”

Amanda shook her head clearly. I could still picture her when she had been on that chair. Her eyes had been bright and clear, with no fear or foreboding. She had not wanted the gag at all but I had insisted for her own protection. I did not want her to bite her tongue accidentally. Unlike Darla she had known exactly what was going to happen and had accepted it. Darla was obviously not convinced but there was no turning back now. She had signed away her right to refuse.

I will not go into graphic details about the next half an hour or so. I performed the piercings with as much professional care as was possible using the appropriate instruments and pain control. Darla was not very happy but my ropes and gag did their job. It was now time for her reward.

I have found that pain is a great aphrodisiac, even for those who do not think they enjoy it. Darla’s nipples were hyper sensitive after their piercings but Amanda is very skilled with her mouth and tongue. I watched in both admiration and fascination as she teased the helpless Darla to a sexual frenzy using only her tongue, lips and fingers. Eventually she knelt between the helpless girl’s thighs and licked and sucked her to oblivion. I am sure that if the gag had not been still in place the shrieks would have been heard 100 miles away.

We then let her rest. I undid the unnecessary ropes around her breasts but left her secure to the chair. I offered her a glass of water under the assurance that she would be civil and not abuse the privilege of speech.

It was not necessary to put the gag back. Darla sat still unable to move, her eyes closed trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“The final step is up to you,” I told her gently. “These cuffs and collar, once put on, cannot be removed without risking personal injury. There are no locks and no opening mechanisms. I will leave them on the table for you to put on if you wish. Your future husband will be here soon. to collect you. My job is finished.”

With that I untied her completely and left the room leaving her alone to ponder her fate. I watched her through the security cameras.

My products are custom made in my own workshop and designed to last. I am a Jeweller by profession. Even the cheapest ones come chased and engraved to the highest quality. The closing mechanism is a simple lock but there is no key hole. If she closed it before putting it on the whole thing would be ruined. Darla fingered the name on the collar before placing it around her slender neck. The ankle and wrist cuffs soon followed. I must admit they suited her, although I am biased.

She tested her movements. The chain is quite long, anchored at each ankle, and running freely between the wrists and the neck. She could stretch out her arms like the DaVinci picture but reaching overhead is more problematic. She can raise either just one arm or she must lift one of her legs to get extra chain. She seems quite content until she considered her clothes.

Knickers are out of the question the chain ends up bunched around the waist leaving little movement for her hands. Likewise, anything that encloses the arm is caught in the chain. She had nothing that could be worn available to her. I watched her digest the information. She looked around but saw only bare walls, the table and a bondage chair. Her eyes found one of the cameras and she gave it a bemused stare. Suddenly the door opened.

I had met her prospective husband of course. He had supplied both the measurements and the not inconsiderable finances for today’s exercise. His eyes devoured his new slave, for she was now at his mercy. Darla’s first reaction was relief. She almost tripped running to him.

“Tom!”

“How dare you call my name in public!” He bellowed.

It stopped her in her tracks.

“But?”

“Stand still and let me look at you!” He commanded.

Darla stood bewildered. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out. Tom circled her once. Darla’s eyes followed him as best they could but she now stood motionless, hands limp at her sides feet slightly apart. I think I saw a shiver.

“Excellent, now follow me.”

“I have no clothes.” She said weakly.

“Of course.”

“But,”

“You can’t stay here, so follow me.”

Darla hesitated.

“Now!”

I tracked them through the corridors to the indoor car park. Tom never looked back. Darla, realising now how helpless she was, followed meekly. She struggled into the boot of the car the chain making it difficult. Once inside I saw Tom reach in and fiddle about. There was a muffled squawk. My video is not that manoeuvrable so I could not see the reason for the complaint. I suspect Darla now learned how easy it was to restrain her completely by clipping the chain together at different points. The car boot was closed unceremoniously.

Another satisfied client: Tom that is. Darla may not agree, but she has little say anymore. I can’t say I’m sorry: She talked too much.